


How Unfortunate

by Elder_Higgins



Category: The Outsiders (1983), The Outsiders - All Media Types, The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: Blood, Gay Dallas Winston, Gay Johnny Cade, Hospital, Hurt/Comfort, Johnnycakes, M/M, Wounded, can be either - Freeform, dad darry, platonic/romantic - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-10-24 14:02:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20707211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elder_Higgins/pseuds/Elder_Higgins
Summary: Johnny has plans to rob the new convenience store with Dallas and somehow the plan go awry, with Johnny ending up in the hospital.





	1. Fallen Apart Before The Fun Has Even Begun

**Author's Note:**

> Mentions of blood and violence!! 
> 
> Hope you all enjoy :))

The night had been going perfectly. Johnny had managed to slip out of the house right before his father had gotten home. For once, he didn’t have a sniffle and could take a deep breath of the crisp fall air without a problem. There wasn’t a day he could remember that Johnny had gone through without incident. 

Maybe that was the warning. 

He had been on his way to Ponyboy’s when it happened. The gang was going to the drive-in. Afterwards he had plans to raid the new convenience store in town with Dally. A night in jail would be better than a night at home anyway. Those plans had been cut short, in more senses than one. 

It wasn’t a big deal. That’s what Johnny kept telling himself. As long as he kept a hand clamped on his abdomen nothing bad was going to happen. The shooting pain would dull and he would continue with his night. If anyone knew that pain was a mental state, it was Johnny. 

Skipping the Curtis’s and going straight to the drive in probably wasn’t the smartest idea, but Johnny was dizzy and it was late enough that the gang would have assumed his dad had gotten to him and wasn’t coming. How they convinced Dally not to come knocking down his parents was a mystery. The thought brought a smile to his face and a rush of heat down his neck. Dally really did care, more so that he had to. Johnny didn’t know how he’d react to this news. Regardless, he stumbled a few more blocks, following the noise of rowdy teenagers and the smell of stale popcorn wafting throughout the night air. 

The ticket seller hadn’t dozed off in her booth yet, which meant that the movie hadn’t started. Yet another small blessing today had to deliver. At least Johnny wouldn’t be interrupting everyone’s leisure activities for the nights. 

Slipping through the hole in the fence was a long, painful process. He had to inch his way into the premises, refusing to remove his hand from his aching gut. The pain was well worth not spending the little allowance he did have. Maybe it would be enough to cover hospital bills, though he doubted it. 

The sleeve of Johnny’s jean jacket caught on the chain link fence. “Aw, fuck me,” he hissed. To remove it properly that meant releasing the right grip he had his other hand in. Johnny, instead, settled for flapping his arm about like a flightless bird trying to take off until he heard a loud rip and his sleeve was free. Easy money. 

People were staring. Correction, Socs were staring. Greasers could care less. The jean jacket immediately gave away who it was and they’d see his struggle as a common occurrence. Which was ironic for once in Johnny’s life, because today his bad luck was out of the norm. Or would it be that his good luck was what was truly out of the norm?

The world around him swam. For an instance everyone’s peering faces seemed to distance themselves only to suddenly approach, again and again as Johnny rocked back and forth to regain his balance. 

“Focus, dammit.” He blinked a few times. The dizziness would pass. It had on the walk here, but, for some reason, this episode was longer than usual. 

He scanned the faces, the mass of bodies, for someone he at least recognized. A shove in the right direction was all he needed. Getting around was hard enough with all this pain. Then Johnny spotted him. A fallen angel, well, more fallen than angel. 

“Tim!” He called out. It came out as a whisper at first, voice snatched by all the whispers and eyes trained at him. “Tim Sheppard!”

That got his attention. Tim, not usually one for movies unless he was here to kick someone’s ass, whirled to locate the call. “Johnny, you look tuff.” He said as he sauntered over. 

Johnny knew that Dally trusted Tim, so, even though everything in his being was telling him to stop this conversation and risk asking a Soc, he put on a shy smile and grew some balls. “You should see the other guy.” 

“Ha! I see why Dal likes you so much.” Tim hadn’t meant it that way, but Johnny’s heart fluttered like he had anyway. 

“Speaking of Dally, have you see him?” Johnny asked. 

If this were another world, the Curtis’s ragtag group of friends would be in Tim’s gang and he wouldn’t have to be asking Dally. Tim would have been helping as soon as he laid eyes on the wreck of a boy. 

Tim waved his hand in a “general that way” kind of motion. He had been distracted by another person, a very fast moving person in the opposite direction of Johnny and Tim. 

“They’re I’m lawn chairs somewhere over there. Look, I gotta go kid.” And he took off. 

Johnny took his response with him. Muttering as he hobbled towards where, he hoped, his friends were seated. “I’m not a kid,” he grumbled. “I’m tuff.”

So tough that tears sprang to his eyes when he saw the back of Sodapop’s head being slapped by Darry, presumably for something Two-Bit had said but Soda had encouraged. Johnny’s heart soared and his hobbling gained speed. His footsteps, as usual, were silent. A by product of living in a broken home. No one heard his approach. 

“Hey, Dal? I don’t think we’re gonna be able to lift a couple soda’s from that new shop tonight.” His voice turned heads and made Steve come close to shrieking. 

“Shit, Johnny. I didn’t know you could talk that loud,” Two-Bit jokes, but no one around them laughed. Ponyboy could immediately sense something was off, as could Dally, but he played it cool. A lot cooler than Pony’s nervous tugging on Darry’s arm. 

“Why’s that?” He responded, completely ignoring Two-Bit as he always did, and nonchalantly tossed a handful of popcorn into his mouth. Johnny didn’t let his relaxed posture fool him. Even though he hadn’t moved positions upon hearing Johnny’s voice, save for tilting his head back to see him, he could see the worry in his eyes as Dally waited for a response. 

He waited a while, because Johnny’s focus on the ground before him went blurry and yet another tsunami of dizziness came. For the first time since he’d felt the sharp pain, Johnny pulled his hand away from his wound. “Oh, I got stabbed while walking here.”

His hand was thickly coated in blood. Even in the sickly lighting of the fluorescent bulbs on the darkness Johnny could see how red it was. His stomach curdled, he bent over to hurl, and staggered backwards. 

“Shit, Johnny.” Dally shot up from his chair, followed by Darry who caught Johnny as he all but collapsed. “You’re literally the only person I know that would come all this way to cancel while bleeding out.”

“It’s all part of my charm.”Johnny said with a grin. His attempt at a smile made him look more constipated than teasing, causing everyone to fret even more. 

Dally was beside himself, muttering how he should have sent Soda to get him; as if that would have persevered Johnny’s dignity more than being stabbed. 

Sodapop, as usual, kept a level head. “We have to find something to tie around his wound for now, the last thing we need is for Johnny to bleed out on us.”

He, and Darry, took after their mother in that regard. Pony was more like Mr. Curtis in emergencies. Off the side, shaking with nervous energy, and avoiding making things worse. Still, better than Johnny could have reacted. Panic attacks were his brand. 

Two-Bit, in true Two-Bit fashion, was quick to grab a girl and tear off the bottom hem of her dress. 

For a moment, she was too shocked to say anything, but she was a girl and once they got angry there was no stopping the torrent of words that would stream from their mouths. “You- you jerk! I’m on a date right now and you’ve ruined me dress! I expect you to pay for this. You greasers-“ 

“And my friend here is gonna die if you don’t keep walking!” Steve ripped the fabric from Two-Bit’s hands, snarling at the Soc as he did so. “Here, Soda.” He shoved the makeshift bandage into his arms. 

With a shaky breath Soda tied the dress hem around Johnny’s abdomen. The pressure on his wound made him cry out, but no one passing by bothered to spare them a second glance. Soda, however, startled and began to loosen the bandage. “Sorry, Johnny-“ he started, but Darry quickly cut him off. 

“It has to be tight, Soda! You literally just said it had to be tight!”

“Sorry, it was hurting him and-“

“No, tighten the fucking thing and let’s go.” 

The air around them went stale. Johnny figured he must be in pretty bad shape if Darry was swearing at the gang, nonetheless his brother. 

So off they went. Dally and Darry half carrying, half dragging a bloodied Johnny and the rest following like lost puppies.


	2. A shitty palm reading in which nothing is learned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not my best work but i'm living for ambiguous feelings at the moment even though this is totally obvious but what can ya do about it

If anyone could sweet talk their way into a hospital it was Dallas Winston. He’d bed half the nurses any how; so even if charming the receptionists somehow failed, he still had an in. 

Johnny had never been more grateful for Dally sleeping around than in that moment. Typically a stone of jealousy would be settling in his stomach while he watched Dally run his fingers along the pretty nurse’s arm, but the hospital didn’t ask for a name or parents or insurance; so, he buried that stone deep down inside him. Johnny was completely unknown, just a stab victim who needed emergency surgery, and he owed it all to Dallas Winston’s sex life. 

Once they had deposited Johnny onto a gurney the gang was immediately dismissed. Not an easy task for the poor intern. 

Darry was arguing, demanding he be the one to follow his little brother- if Johnny wasn’t so distracted with bleeding out, he would’ve cried at the kind words. Dally didn’t talk, simply tried to storm after Johnny and was stopped by security. Even Ponyboy rose his voice to yell at one of the doctors but was drowned out by everyone else. 

Chaos. And it was all Johnny’s fault. 

The reactions, though done in good faith, had been alarming. In any other circumstances, he’d be shitting his pants. Scratch that, Johnny was terrified. None of his friends were there at his side. He’d never been to the doctor, let alone get an emergency surgery. 

The doctors had to makeshift a patch for his wound to put him in this strange whirring machine. What would that do? One of the nurses said it looked inside him to see if the knife caused internal bleeding. That wasn’t as reassuring as it should have been. Would they see his broken bones too? The bruises on his back and legs? 

A few weeks later, after Johnny had been released from the hospital Darry mentioned the machine. It hadn’t been to look for internal bleeding after all. They’d seen the marks all over his body and checked for broken bones; namely on his vertebrate where all the bruises were. Lucky for him, they didn’t find any fresh ones. Just those mended by time and tears. 

They’d assumed a Greaser who fought in one too many fumbles. When Darry tried to tell them what was really going on, they didn’t listen. No one ever did care about people like them. 

Darry was on his mind as Johnny was wheeled into the operating room. He radiated an energy of protection that Dally could never. Maybe it was because he had to grow up so fast. Maybe it was because Johnny was basically his brother too. Whatever the case this room was scary with its knives and bright lights. He wanted a guardian angel, a parental figure, anyone to be looking out for him. 

Instead he got masked surgeons with a ravenous look in their eyes. All they wanted to do was cut. Cut him up and spill his entrails on the table for their own selfish pleasure. 

There had been a time, long ago, when Johnny would’ve understood that need to cut. But the thought of cutting another person? It made his stomach churn. 

The scary doctors had tried to knock him out with some weird smelling gas, but he had freaked out so violently they had to sedate him instead. They held down his thrashing arms and legs, struggling to find a vein, and then jamming the needle into his leg without a care. Was that legal? There was no way that could be legal- Darry would know. . . He’d let Darry. . . 

Blackness. Johnny had always been scared of the dark. You could never tell what was going on, what was going to happen. It was all too much for his painfully simple brain to try and understand. 

A gentle glow, an ember of a flame, lit behind Johnny’s eyelids. Ah, safety. 

He woke up in a hospital bed to a familiar face peering down at him. 

“He’s awake!” Two-Bit all but screamed in his face. Johnny jumped as did every other sleeping person in the room. It was 12 a.m. 

“Fuckin’ giving me a heart attack.” Darry sat up from his spot on the floor. He’d given Pony, Soda, and Steve the chairs. Dally was far away as possible. 

His voice came from the doorway. “God knows you’re old enough to have one.” There was a new hickey on Dallas’s neck, no doubt from the cute blonde nurse from before Johnny was rushed into surgery. 

He stared at it till tears formed in his eyes and he was forced to blink them away. Why the hell was he crying? Dally slept with anyone who would crawl into bed with him, why had Johnny expected him to be sitting in the waiting room stressing to death over whether his Johnnycakes was dead or alive? 

Something hard flashed in Dally’s eyes and he slipped out the door without a goodbye. The laughter from Dallas’s witty comment died down; Ponyboy made his move and shoved Two-Bit out of the way only to plop down into the chair next to his best friend. “I’m glad you’re okay, Jonny.” 

“Thank you y’all, so much.” The words felt wrong. Either they didn’t hold the right meaning, or they got caught in his throat. He tried hard to swallow, but there was no moisture to be found. “Water.” 

“Woah don’t go all western on us,” Steve laughed, reaching over to rustle Johnny’s hair before handing him a glass of water. It was weird how almost dying could change the way a person saw you. 

Steve has never liked him. It wasn’t a secret, he was a very vocal person, but Johnny had seen the look on his face as they dragged him to the hospital. Steve has looked sick with worry. 

Johnny smiled into the glass as he took a sip. That was something he’d never let Steve live down. But his throat felt too scratchy to tease him right now. 

By the time he had chugged the entire glass and shakily handed the water back to him, the moment for teasing had passed. 

“Aren’t y’all supposed to be at home? Sleepin’?” He chuckled, attempting to sit up. A pain flashed up his torso, before settling into his chest. His body settled back into the same position. 

He would not be trying that again. 

“What?” He groaned. Everyone had jerked towards him, Ponyboy going as far to grab his hand. But not one of them answered his question. 

Johnny already knew the bullshit they’d spout out. How he was just a kid and they were worried. Fuck that. Had they even seen what he’d just been through? 

Two-Bit got stabbed last year and he’d been blubbering like a baby. Sure, it was a little worse than how Johnny got stabbed, but he’d managed to walk for blocks without shedding a tear. Johnny wasn’t a kid. He was tuff. 

“We refused to leave till ya woke up.” Pony told him, thumb brushing against the swollen knuckles on the back of Johnny’s hand as he diverted attention away from the pain. 

Two-Bit jockeyed back into position next to Johnny, shoving Pony so that they were sharing the chair. 

He reminded Johnny of that mutt that had followed him to the lot a few weeks back, looking for scraps to eat. The thing, clingy and stupid as it may be, was sweet. Desperate for attention, but who wasn’t. 

“They tried to call for your Old Man, but Darry was not lettin’ that happen. He’s went ape shit,” He rambled, talking a mile a minute until his tongue was hanging out of his mouth in a pant. 

“I did not-“ Darry scoffed, but was cut off by the rest of the gang. 

“He got right up in their faces!” 

“Yeah, they’s won’t mess with him anymore.” 

“It was real tuff.” 

Off to the side of the room, the tips of Darry’s ears went pink. 

“You should ‘ave seen it! Darry almost got kicked out.” Pony’s eyes lit up as he rambled. The admiration in his voice was obvious. 

Jealousy pained him, would someone ever talk about him with that look on their face? Johnny just shift to look at Darrel with a soft smile on his face. “Thanks, man.” 

He waved a hand dismissively. “Nah, anythin’ for you, Johnny. We better hit the road, Pony you still got school in the morning and Soda Steve, and I has work.” 

“It’s already morning,” Soda whined. 

Darry rolled his eyes. “You can still get some shut eye before you go.” 

They collectively groaned, all except Two-Bit who pitched closer to Johnny in bed. “Don’t worry. I can stay.” 

The words had meant to come out quietly. Two-Bit didn’t exactly do quiet and, even if he did, Darry had supersonic hearing. “No, you’re coming too. Johnny needs peace and quiet.” 

Next to him, Pony snickered. 

“Thanks y’all.” Johnny smiled at everyone, not bothering to object as they all tussled his hair on their way out. “Get home safe.” 

And, just like that, he was alone in the bright hospital room. The light gave him a headache. There was no way in hell Johnny could sleep like this. Not that he’d be able to sleep in the dark anyway. 

It had to have been an hour until a nurse came by to check on him one last time for the night. “Looking good,” she said, smiling. 

“Yeah? You should see outside the hospital then.” Where was all this confidence coming from? 

“Keep on your best behavior and we can see about that.” She winked at him on her way out, then shut off the light. Plunged the room into darkness. 

His heart stopped. 

There was scraping in the corner. Yelling in the back of his mind. Somewhere his old man was screaming, hitting, and spitting. Johnny was in for a whirl of hurt. 

A soft rapping at the door pulled him out of his waking nightmare. 

Dallas Winston poked his head in, finger to his lips, and he crept in silently. Slyly, he made his way to the chair Pony had been sitting in earlier. Stealthily he crashed into the chairs Soda and Steve had been sitting in. There was loud scraping and a lot of swearing, so much for being quiet. 

He was half as bad as Two-Bit. 

“Smooth,” Johnny chuckled once Dally had safely made it to the bedside. 

“Fuck you.” He shifted, bringing his leg up to rest over one of the arms while the other rested on the ground. 

“Make yourself at home.” 

“Gladly.” 

Johnny rolled his eyes. “They’re gonna kick you out if they see ya in here.” 

“No they ain’t, Johnnycakes.” 

“Visiting hours are over an-“ 

Dally leaned forward and grabbed his hand, rough and warm. “Hey, Johnny?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Shut up.” 

He stuck his tongue out at Dally, crossed his arms, and pouted like the child Johnny constantly complained about being treated like. There was no witty comeback, he wasn’t Soda, and there was no easy flow of conversation, he certainly wasn’t Two-Bit. 

But with Dally he didn’t need to be anyone else. He could be Johnny, silent, spacy Johnny and sometimes that even felt like too much. The quiet was comfortable, if absent of its usual cloud of cigarette smoke, as it always was. They weren’t Ponyboy, there wasn’t always words to describe the jumbled mess in both their heads. 

How was Johnny supposed to talk about the way his heart skipped a beat every single time Dally’s thumb swept across the back of his hand? Were there even enough words in the English language to describe the way his stomach would flutter, and his mind would wander? Or would he have to learn Spanish? French? God, there were so many words and Johnny couldn’t get out of his head long enough to form a sentence. 

Luckily, he didn’t have to. Dally had enough smartass sentences to fill two, no, three books and several other thin magazines – he didn’t know that many words, just how to string them together. 

“You know what was smooth? Whatcha ya said to that nurse.” Johnny shot him a look. “What? I’m just sayin’ good for you, Johnnycakes. Ya need to get laid, and soon.” Dally couldn’t help but let out a breathy chuckle. 

The nerve. “And what about you and that blonde nurse? Was she jumping your bones while I was having my insides cut up?” 

“No one even says that anymore.” 

“Says what?” 

“‘Jumping your bones’ ya sound like a grandpa.” 

“Hey Dally?” 

“Hmm?” 

Johnny laughed before he could even mock him properly. “Shut up.” 

“Well,” Dally bristled, gripping Johnny’s hand a bit tighter and pulling it just a bit closer, “that nurse got me a free pass to spend the night in here with you.” 

Sweeter words never spoken. 

“You sure? I don’t wantcha to have to sleep in that chair all night.” 

“Don’t you worry about me. I’d try to get in bed next to ya, but the broad already lectured me about how me squeezin’ in next to ya can mess up your stitches. Now, I tried to tell her that you’re skinny enough that I can fit on a bed smaller than this with you, we’ve done it before, but once she said that stuff ‘bout messin’ up your stitches–” he let out a low whistle- “I couldn’t bring myself to cause an even nastier scar than you is gonna get from the surgery.” 

Dally couldn’t see it in the dark, but Johnny was rolling his eyes. “My hero.” 

“You’re welcome.” The sarcasm fell flat. 

If only Johnny could muster up the words to tell Dally that he was actually his hero. Not the knight in shining armor kind of hero that Ponyboy would go on about, but a glimmer of hope. He’d been in a rough spot, like Johnny was in a rough spot, and, if he could make it out, then so could Johnny. 

The silence was back, lighter now. It was later now. Johnny was only awake to keep out the bad thoughts. But his old man wasn’t here, so there was none to keep out. 

“I think I’m scared of the dark, Dal.” 

A pair of lips faintly brushed over Johnny’s knuckles, so quickly Johnny was sure he imagined it because, when he allowed his train of though to stop thinking about the way those chapped lips felt on his skin, his hand was splayed up and Dally’s fingertips were drawing over the creases in his hand. 

Shivers ran down his spine. “Whatcha doin’?” 

“My aunt used to believe in all this crap.” 

“Used to?” 

“She switches beliefs faster than she switches men.” 

Johnny snorted, leaning back and focusing on the lines on his hand. That one, the one on the fleshy part of his palm, was long. Dally’s hum practically confirmed the smile on his face. “Ah, so sleeping around runs in the family?” That smile, though Johnny couldn’t see it, got wider. 

“Ya know, you has quite the mouth on you. I almost like it better when you don’t talk.” There was another line Dally was tracing. It was a bit below his fingers; a long line but sloping downward with a split at the end that turned even more so downward. A less content hum from Dally, but not entirely surprised. 

“Don’t worry, I know ya love me.” 

A small snort of laughter and the possibility of a ‘damn, right I do’ but Johnny was so exhausted he couldn’t really make it out. His eyelids weighed a thousand pounds, dragging shut despite the offending darkness, but sleep didn’t come. Something was eating at him. Johnny couldn’t seem to shut his brain off. 

“I’m scared to fall asleep, Dal.” 

Dally’s fingers kept tracing the lines on his palm. “I’ll be right here,” he said and shifted so their hands were interlocked. A simple gesture really, but one that made all the difference. 

And Johnny hadn’t even noticed, he was already fast asleep. 

\---

There was shuffling in the hallway, people shouting, probably doctors as they rushed to a woman screaming. Not exactly the most peaceful wake up call. 

Light filtered in between the thick blinds covering the hospital window. Everything around him - including Dally, peacefully asleep with his hand still protectively interlocked with Johnny’s - looked trapped between time and reality. 

For a moment, just a moment, everything was at a standstill. 

“Hey, Dal?” 

No response. No acknowledgement. Johnny could do, say, think whatever he wanted without ruining the moment. 

“Thank you.” 

A few hours later, right before Johnny was discharged, and the entire gang was in the room playing a rather loud game of cards Dally leaned into Johnny’s ears whispering a soft, “Anything for you, Johnnycakes.” 


End file.
